


Restless

by TechnoXenoHolic



Series: Aboard the Prosperity [3]
Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Fluff, Other, Short & Sweet, Sleepiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 05:30:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10892703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TechnoXenoHolic/pseuds/TechnoXenoHolic
Summary: SwindleShock minific forangelicneonanimeon tumblr. Written as a 150 follower giveaway minific months ago.





	Restless

**Author's Note:**

> set sometime in the _Aboard the Prosperity_ timeline, in or around book 3 or 4.

Swindle was not a deep recharger. Even the tiniest of sounds or the softest of touches was enough to rouse him sometimes, especially without the gentle, rumbling hum of the _Prosperity_ drowning all else out the way it used to.

So, on nights like this—when Shockwave found himself plagued by the nasty thoughts he could tune out during the daytime—he distanced himself from his lover and did his fretting outside on the balcony. It wouldn’t do to have a nightmare and wake Swindle as well.

The cycloptic mech sighed quietly and tapped the points of his claws on the balcony rail. Megatron’s face loomed large in his processor—and Galvatron’s, too. The dark grin on it sent a shudder down Shockwave’s backstrut. He stared intently at his own tapping claws to drive out the image.

Others only rose into their place. Fear in all of Blitzwing’s faces—Cyclonus’ final smile—Lockdown’s sharp and wicked frame.

Shockwave shook his helm sharply. He’d thought himself desensitized to the darkness that came with the Decepticon faction—believed it justified, even. _Logical._ But being the target of such malevolence himself—from within the faction he had believed in, from the mech he had once trusted most in the universe…

The repetitive _tap-tap, tap-tap_  of Shockwave’s claws drowned out the sound of soft pedefalls behind him.

“Shockwave?” Swindle called quietly.

Shockwave turned, optic wide. “Did I wake you, dearest?” he asked, voice soft, and sank to one knee. He held his arms out and, yawning, Swindle shuffled forward and hugged the larger mech around the neck. Shockwave wrapped him up in his arms and nuzzled at his helm.

“Nn,” Swindle mumbled. “Couldn’t get into recharge anyway.”

Shockwave pulled a sigh through his vents. “I didn’t mean to keep you awake—”

“Wasn’t you,” Swindle told him. He pushed back just enough to look Shockwave in the face and gave him an inscrutable sort of look. “It’s just… too quiet.”

Shockwave hummed thoughtfully. “Would you like me to join you, my love? I could run my engine on idle for you, if that would help.”

“It would,” said Swindle. He smiled hopefully—Shockwave was struck for the umpteenth time how very vulnerable Swindle seemed when he was so tired. “Please?”

“Of course,” Shockwave murmured. He bunted his forehelm softly against Swindle’s, then stood, sweeping the smaller mech up against his chestplate. He tucked Swindle’s face into the crook of his neck and stroked the back of his helm with the points of his claws. Swindle hummed and relaxed into Shockwave’s hold with a smile, his engine purring softly.

The level of trust Swindle showed him— _Shockwave,_ of all mechs, for whom trust in either direction had always been in painfully short supply—made the spy’s spark flutter.

It was lucky for Swindle that Shockwave truly was enamored with him. Lucky for them both, perhaps.

Shockwave carried Swindle to their berth with long, slow strides. His steps sounded overly loud in the near-silence of the darkened hallway. Made anxious by the sound, he shifted to lower the density of his mass and stepped more quietly. In a low breath of a voice, he suggested, “Perhaps we should invest in some sort of ambient sound emitter.”

Swindle pressed a sleepy kiss against Shockwave’s neck. “I’m not buying anything I can just use you for instead,” he mumbled.

Shockwave chuckled fondly and keyed open their berthroom door. “And when I’m not here?”

Swindle just huffed and gave Shockwave a squeeze. “You’d _better_ be here,” he muttered.

Shockwave said nothing in response—just stepped to the edge of their shared berth, turned, and laid back onto it, keeping Swindle tucked snugly up against his engine. He let it rumble in a quiet idle, did his best to match the pitch of the _Prosperity’s,_ and Swindle sighed happily and relaxed atop him.

“Mmng, I love you,” he murmured.

Shockwave half-shuttered his optic and stroked Swindle’s helm fondly. “And I you, dearest. Now get some recharge.”

Shockwave wouldn’t be recharging himself, he knew. But with Swindle tucked against him it was at least a little easier to forget the things clawing at him.


End file.
